Dear Reader,
The 2020s are a time of immense technological uncertainty and anxiety, primarily due to frontiers such as artificial intelligence and quantum computing. To me, it feels more important than ever to develop a personal philosophy of technology.
I'm intrigued to try the approach Cal Newport proposes in Digital Minimalism. In summary:
Define your deeply held personal values.
Practise a 30-day 'digital declutter' during which you refrain from all optional online technologies.
After the digital declutter, slowly and systematically reintroduce only the online technologies which pass strict criteria:
They support one of your deeply held personal values.
They are the best way of doing something which supports that value.
Their roles in your life are constrained by specific whens and hows.
This week, I planned my digital declutter experiment.
Step 1: Define your deeply held personal values
I wrote down whatever I felt my ‘deeply held personal values’ might be, cross-referenced them with an excellent list of 24 prompts from neuroscientist and author Anne-Laure Le Cunff, and then distilled them into a set of five core values.
Learning—it relates to personal and social growth, education, and the notion that there can be a better tomorrow.
Autonomy—gives us the freedom to act on what we learn, other goods, and freedoms from harm.
Connection—our connections with other entities are the most important things in our lives, and our connections with our environment define our experience.
Well-being—physical, mental, personal, and social, well-being allows us to engage meaningfully with the world and our experiences.
Diversity—like evolution through natural selection from random genetic mutation, differences are what allow any organisms to be greater than the sum of their parts. To me, diversity relates to resilience, perspective, creativity, and mastery.
I don’t pretend that this process was an exact science. I simply brainstormed words and then turned inward, waiting for the deeper and wiser part of me to nod in silent approval.
Once my inner sage had built the experiment’s foundation, I came up with every online or digital technology I could think of.
Newport’s advice was to ‘consider the technology optional unless its temporary removal would harm or significantly disrupt the daily operation of your professional or personal life.’
There is an important distinction here between inconvenience and ‘harm or [significant] disruption’. For example, refusing to use vulnerability scanners or join conference calls would probably at least mildly hamper my job as a cybersecurity analyst. This is significant disruption. On the other hand, writing down directions before I leave is inconvenient but Moses managed to lead the Exodus of the Israelites without directions from Waze. I can survive a month without referencing a dynamic calculation of the optimal walking path through a well-signposted city.
With Newport’s advice in mind, distinguishing between essential and nonessential technology was easier than I expected.
Essential
At all times:
Basic utilities such as alarms and timers, phone calls, and text messages.
Listening to music via Apple Music—I don’t own any CDs and denying this would cause incalculable emotional harm.
When I cut the nonessential from how I already use my computer, tablet, and smartphone, I found it interesting that a kind of natural daily structure emerged:
07:30–08:30
Personal affairs such as email correspondence; managing accounts, records, and passwords; filing documents and records; ordering groceries; and booking tickets.
08:30–16:30
Professional use.
16:30–17:30
Studying a specific curriculum including looking things up, writing notes, drawing diagrams, saving references, etc.
Writing and publishing via Substack.
Before stripping back to only the most basic uses, I had the impression that the constant use of numerous online technologies was not only beneficial but in fact indispensable to my professional life in particular. It appears that outside of work, I have very few strong reasons to sit in complete silence for protracted periods of time and interact with glowing rectangles of various sizes.
Optional
Newport also advised that the behaviour changes involved during a digital declutter don’t occur in a vacuum. That is to say, it’s best to find alternative uses for the huge amount of time which will be suddenly reclaimed.
I was honest with myself while writing down how I use online technologies. For any case which met Newport’s definition—removal doesn’t cause harm or significant disruption which is not just inconvenience—I wrote down a commitment to myself: a clear statement of intention.
I will only play video games, watch TV shows, films, or videos with other people in person as a social activity.
Instead of mindlessly surfing information sources such as blogs, Substack notes, Wikipedia, YouTube, or asking AI questions, I will read books—currently, Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami.
Instead of reading numerous digital sources such as my Safari Reading list, Substack, e-books, audiobooks, and so on, with fragmented attention, I will read books.
Instead of immediately looking things up online, I will write down non-urgent questions or thoughts in a notebook to look up later during my study time.
Instead of playing whack-a-mole with instant messaging such as WhatsApp, Discord, and iMessage, I will disable all but urgent notifications and reply only at my desk in the morning.
Instead of juggling multiple digital calendars and reminder systems, I will make a simple paper calendar in my notebook and record all personal events and reminders there.
Instead of frequently switching between and obsessing over digital note taking software, I will use a paper notebook for study notes, to extend my working memory, and to manage tasks and responsibilities.
Instead of using my smartphone to track habits, weight, and activity, I will leave its passive activity tracking enabled and remove the rest.
Instead of using digital tools for personal time such as journalling and guided meditation, I will write in my notebook and meditate without aid.
Step 2: Practise a 30-day digital declutter
Now, I find myself staring down my list of personal values, clear parameters for the use of essential online technologies, and list of commitments. The next step is perhaps the most important, and most intriguing, part.
You may be familiar with the idea of a ‘digital detox’: cutting out technology or taking a break from social media for a while to give your brain a break. In this case, the key difference between a digital ‘detox’ and ‘declutter’ is in the objective. Whereas after a digital detox you may simply go back to scrolling at 96 mph and enjoy the massive dopamine rush of opening dozens of red notification bubbles, the aim of a digital declutter is to create something of a baseline.
Newport argues that while you are in the midst of how you normally use online technologies, it’s much more difficult to make honest and accurate evaluations about them. The aim of a digital declutter is to first hold technology at arm’s length before making slow and deliberate choices about exactly what is worth your time and attention, and why.
For example, I anticipate a period of difficult adjustment to picking up a book every time I’m bored rather than scrolling through YouTube on my tablet. I could very easily give myself a pass by stretching the definition of ‘harm’ or ‘significant disruption’: what if there’s a really good video that would’ve changed my life?
However, the aim of this process is to explore the ways that online technologies can actually benefit my life and the things I care about. I don’t scroll through YouTube when I’m bored because I have good reason to. I kind of just do it.
But I’m interested to see if, as it just so happens, the endless number of things I’ve always wanted to do but never seem to find the time for is actually more interesting.
If you’ve found yourself with a similar curiosity, I encourage you to copy these steps and join me in my digital declutter experiment on 1st September 2025.
Thank you for your attention.
Kind regards,
Kai Tebay